


Harry's Pride

by KittyCargo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ace Hannah Abbott, Art welcome, Asexual Character, Asexual Hannah Abbott, Bi Dean Thomas, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Dean Thomas, Bisexual Harry Potter, Blaise Zabini mention, Coming Out, Complete, Depression, F/M, Found Family, Gay Character, Gay Draco Malfoy, Gay Pride, Gay Seamus Finnigan, Harry's bisexual awakening, Hinny, LGBTQ, LGBTQ Character, London, London Pride, M/M, Masturbation, Mostly Canon Compliant, Non-Binary Neville Longbottom, Non-binary character, Other, Pan Luna Lovegood, Pansexual Character, Pansexual Luna Lovegood, Podfic Welcome, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Pride, Pride Parade, Quidditch, Sexuality, Teddy Lupin mention, Therapy, bi harry potter, do not repost to another site, masturbation mention, romione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-18 07:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19329901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyCargo/pseuds/KittyCargo
Summary: Harry figures out who he is in the years following the war.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 will be uploaded on Monday.  
> Chapter 3 will be uploaded on Tuesday.

“Did you hear Dean and Seamus got together?” Hermione asked Ginny over her lemon ricotta french toast as the two couples were out to brunch.

“Finally! It’s about time! They’ve been dancing around each other for years now,” Ginny responded as she shoveled in more eggs.

Confused, Harry paused in the conversation he’d been having with Ron. “Dean? And Seamus?” he interrupted.

“Yes, they finally got together. It’s been quite a long time coming if you ask me,” Hermione responded primly.

“So…they’re together?” Harry repeated.

“Yes, Harry. They’re together,” Hermione was becoming annoyed now.

“Like dating?” Harry clarified.

“For Merlin’s fucking sake, Harry! I don’t know how else to tell you that Seamus and Dean are together and dating. Each other.” Hermione snapped, irritably.

“I was just surprised...they’re both blokes,” Harry winced as it came out, knowing that it sounded terrible and that’s not how he meant it.

Hermione’s eyes blazed, but Ginny cut in before she could start berating him. “There’s nothing wrong with two men dating. Charlie just told mum last week that he’s been seeing a bloke,” Ginny’s tone was gentler than Hermione’s, but there was an edge to it that told Harry he was getting dangerously close to accidentally insulting her brother.

“I know there’s nothing wrong with two blokes dating. You know I don’t care about that! It’s just—” Harry decided to shut up before he got himself in more trouble. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment and the frustration of not knowing how to phrase what he wanted to say as he stabbed at a sausage.

It was Ron who saved him. “Go ahead, Harry. It’s just what?” Ron had been his anchor after the war; he had always been his anchor. The war had changed all of them. Ginny was louder now, as if she was trying to fill the space Fred had left behind, but she laughed with less frequency. Hermione was sharper than she used to be; she had always overworked herself but now she’d thrown herself into her NEWT studies with a fervor that had only been matched by her third-year with the time turner. Harry found himself quieter than he used to be, more despondent. Hermione said he was depressed and needed to see a mind healer, and Hermione was usually right but it was hard to take her advice when she said it in such a snippy tone. Ron was quieter too but in a different way, more thoughtful. He chose his words more carefully, weighing them before he spoke.

Ron’s blue eyes were intent on Harry, and as Harry glanced up he knew Ron would listen to find out what he was trying to say, not just the jumbled mess that was coming out of his mouth. Harry hesitated, trying to put the words together correctly this time.

“I was just surprised because I thought Dean liked girls. I mean, he dated you,” Harry risked a glance at Ginny, whose face was unreadable. “I just didn’t realize…” Harry trailed off again.

“Dean’s bisexual,” Hermione said knowledgably. When Harry still looked confused, she sighed and explained. “It means he likes both men and women. Sexuality’s a spectrum. It’s not just straight or gay. There’s bisexual, pansexual, demisexual…” she trailed off at Harry’s expression. “I’ll send you a book about it.” Typical Hermione. She’d sent him books about depression too.

It was about a week later when he got Hermione’s book. She and Ginny were back at Hogwarts for their last year. Harry and Ron had both turned down returning to Hogwarts. Harry couldn’t bear the thought of going back where he’d died, where so many had died. Ron had never been very academically minded, and he didn’t see the point when the aurors would allow him to join without NEWTs.

Harry was moving to toss it on top of the pile of depression books when a note fell out.

_Harry,_

_It seems that I keep saying this to you, but I’m sorry. I know I’m not your favorite person right now because I can’t stop nagging you, but I’m nagging you because I’m so worried about losing you. It seems that I’m losing you anyways, because of my nagging._

_I didn’t mean to snap at you about Dean and Seamus on Saturday. My aunt and her wife have had to deal with a lot of homophobia and hatred, and while I realize in hindsight that you were just trying to understand more, it reminded me of the hurtful comments others had made. I know that’s not you, and it wasn’t fair of me to put that on you. I’m sorry._

_I don’t know if you’ll read this book or not, but I hope you do, and I hope you find what you’re looking for._

_Love always,_

_Hermione_

Harry reread the note. He just ached. Ached for the sleep he wasn’t getting because of nightmares and ached for the people he’d lost and others had lost. Ached that his friendship with Hermione was the way it was. He sat down on the shabby couch in the apartment that he shared with Ron, and curled up. Harry felt so, so tired.

He woke in his own bed the next morning but didn’t remember how he’d gotten there. That had happened with alarming frequency recently, and Harry was too embarrassed to ask Ron about it. He fumbled for his glasses, and saw that Ron had set Hermione’s book on his bedside table, her note tucked back inside.

_I hope you find what you’re looking for_ she’d said. He opened the book and found the chapter on bisexuality, hoping he’d know what he was looking for when he found it.

He started skimming, but soon found himself reading more and more in depth.

_This is me,_ he thought. _Somehow, I’ve found me._


	2. Chapter 2

It’d been almost two years since Harry had realized he was bi. He hadn’t told any one. He wasn’t sure how. ‘Hey Ginny. In addition to women, I think I’m also attracted to men. Anyway, how’s your day?’ It didn’t seem like the way that conversation should go. And did it really matter in the end? He still loved Ginny, still wanted to be with her. Was it really something that they needed to have a conversation about?

He dithered back and forth over it for awhile. Even though he was pretty sure he was bi, there was still a lot of doubt. He’d not done anything physical with men before, so how could he actually be sure? He’d think about how good it felt to have Ginny curled up next to him at night, the way her eyelashes fluttered when they kissed and how he loved to trace the freckles that dusted her shoulders. 

It wasn’t just Ginny either — he’d been occasionally struck silent when Fleur whisked by unexpectedly, her long hair flowing behind her as she moved gracefully and Cho’s pretty dark eyes used to render him helpless. But then he’d remember how much he’d admired Cedric’s good looks, how he’d appreciated Bill’s long hair and Charlie’s muscles. He contemplated it, and after a particularly excellent wank over a Quidditch magazine featuring Blaise Zabini (who didn’t even play quidditch but modeled in the adverts), there was little doubt left.

He told Ginny after a particularly good session with his mind healer. There’d been a dark time near Christmas when Harry accidentally stunned Ron, who had been trying to wake him when he was stuck in Bathilda’s house again, dust and decay swirling around him while Nagini hissed in his ear. Thankfully, it hadn’t been a stronger spell, and Ron gave him a good ribbing that he was shocked Harry knew more spells than Expelliarmus. Harry felt guilty for days afterwards, and reminiscent of fifth year when he’d been terrified Voldemort was controlling him, he had additional trouble sleeping for the next week. 

Hermione had promised to stop bringing up the mind healer, but he knew when she’d heard about the incident because he received a letter with a name and address on it, under which she’d simply written  _ please _ . Exhausted, angry, and bitter, he’d finally made an appointment. It took months of hard work, but now, two years later, the dark circles under his eyes had finally vanished and his body had lost the malnourished look it’d had from surviving mostly on tins of beans and wild mushrooms in the forest. 

He and Ginny were laying together in bed, laughing and trading stories from their day. She had graduated, been recruited to the Hollyhead Harpies, and still technically lived at the Burrow, but it wasn’t uncommon for her to spend the night, especially if she had an early practice the next day. Ron had moved out and in with Hermione, and while Harry sometimes felt lonely, he also reveled in the privacy that he’d never had at the Dursleys’ or in the shared space of Hogwarts. Some days he didn’t bother to dress, just lounging in his pants on his sofa, Ginny cackling as a suggestive grin lit up her face when she found him like this.

She was tucked into his side with his arm around her, still panting with laughter from a tale involving an elderly muggle who had mistaken Harry for her grandson, when her brown eyes suddenly went serious.

“Sometimes, I think about everything you’ve been through, everything we’ve been through, and I’m just so overwhelmed and thankful that I get to be laying in bed listening to the details of your day. I just love you so much, Harry,” She gave him an extra squeeze, and it seemed like it was an extra dose of courage. Suddenly, he wanted to tell her. She loved him, and he loved her, and he didn’t want to hide any part of himself from her.

“Gin?” She hummed at her name, but he could feel her body relaxing, getting ready for sleep. “Gin...I’m bi.” Everything in her body stiffened suddenly, and she sat up slowly, focused on him. Fear suddenly clenched in his chest, and he rushed to try and explain. “I mean, I still love you and I don’t want anything to change, but it’s something I’m pretty sure of and I…”  _ fuck I should’ve thought this through, _ “I just wanted you to know,” he ended lamely.

For a terrifying moment he thought she was getting out of the bed, leaving him, but then she was wrapping herself around him, holding him tighter than usual.

“Oh, Harry,” she let out a big exhale and leaned back in her hug so he could see her face, earnest and determined. “Harry, I know you love me. You show me everyday when you bring me my tea just how I like it, when you drop off a lunch I’ve forgotten, coming to the Burrow to have dinner with my parents. I know you love me. And I love you. Every part of you. Whether or not you’re bi, and never in spite of it. I hope you know that.”

Tears pricked at his eyes as he inhaled her fresh, floral scent. He buried his face in her neck, and he was amazed that after all the danger and shit he’d faced growing up that he finally had somewhere that felt safe. Someone who felt like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated.
> 
> Check me out on Tumblr, if you want, @kittycargo


	3. Chapter 3

“Pride is this weekend,” Ginny announced as she dropped her bag with her dirty quidditch kit onto the floor. Harry frowned at her, feeling a bit Aunt Petunia-ish, but he didn’t often get Fridays off from the duelling gym where he worked and he’d used his day to clean their apartment. Ginny ignored his look and leaned in to give him a kiss, smelling of grass and wind. He could taste the salt of her dried sweat on her lips, and when he went to slide a hand up under her jersey he could feel the stick of it on her skin. “What do you think?” she asked as they broke apart.

“About what?” Ginny bent down and picked up her kit, and all Harry could think about momentarily was her long tanned legs in her short exercise shorts.

Ginny laughed, giving her hips a little wiggle for his benefit as she stood, repeating herself. “Pride. This weekend. I think Dean and Seamus and Luna are going. Maybe Hannah and Nev. Do you want to go too?” 

Harry considered it. “I don’t know. Let me think about it, yeah?” Ginny left him with his thoughts and went to start laundry and take a shower. Harry mulled it over as he started on dinner. It would be nice to see everyone, but the group would feel incomplete without Ron and Hermione, and he wasn’t sure if they’d be comfortable coming. He’d come out to them a few years ago, soon after he’d told Ginny, and they’d been supportive but Harry had difficulty picturing Ron in the middle of muggle London at Pride.

Plus, even though Pride was in muggle London, it wasn’t unheard of for magical people to attend. He dreaded the thought of being spotted at Pride and could already imagine Rita Skeeter’s venomous quill wriggling in anticipation over the juicy bit of gossip his life was always reduced to.

Harry heard the shower turn off, and he started dishing up plates for them. Soon, he heard her padding out of the bedroom, and he looked up to find her looking comfy in leggings and a soft T-shirt. The ring on her left hand sparkled, and Harry felt a wave of emotion every time he saw it on her finger. She didn’t wear her engagement ring when she was on the field, worried it would get damaged (or that it’d glint in the sun and distract their seeker), but he often caught her staring at it admiringly. He felt the same way — like he’d never get over the sudden joy of seeing the physical symbol of their love and commitment for each other on her hand.

They sat together at the small kitchen table, sharing about their days. It wasn’t until the end of dinner that Ginny brought up Pride again, asking him what he’d decided.

“I want to go, but…” he trailed off, feeling there were too many concerns to start naming.

“No buts. If you want to go, we’ll go!” she said decisively.

“What if someone sees me? What if someone outs me?” Harry shared his worries with her, knowing she’d happily bear the burden of it with him.

“I think it’ll be too crowded for anyone to really pay attention to you, but you could wear a glamour if you’re worried,” she offered.

Harry grimaced. “I don’t want to go to Pride as someone else.”

Ginny thought for a moment. “What about a disguise? Sunglasses and a hat? Like a muggle celebrity.”

Harry considered that, and he thought it might be simple enough to work while still allowing him to feel like and be himself. He smiled at the thought, and Ginny meandered off to the hearth to Floo call and let the group know that they’re coming. Harry pulled out his phone and texted Ron.

Ron had insisted on integrating muggle technology into his life, wanting to make sure his wife never felt isolated from her family. It had taken a couple months, but he’d become pretty good at using his phone for simple things like phone calls and texts. Hermione had helped him set up an Instagram and Facebook, but Harry had yet to see him post on them yet. 

_ Going to Pride this Saturday. It’s in muggle London. Will you and Hermione come? It would mean a lot to have you both with me. _

Harry waited, and he knew when Ron had seen it (he still had his read receipts on). Soon, the little ellipses bubble popped up and Harry waited anxiously for the reply.

_ Of course! Send us details?  _ Harry let out a sigh of relief and went to find Ginny to get the plan.

Saturday arrived slightly dreary, a rainy 20 degrees, and Harry only felt a little nervous as he tugged a beanie down over his scar and transfigured the shape of his glasses to be less recognizable. As he finished getting ready, he heard Ginny in the living room, welcoming members of their group as they arrived. Harry was both anxious and excited to go, worried about being recognized but ready for the new experience. They’d opted for the busiest day, hoping the crowd for the parade would help keep them invisible.

Harry meandered his way to the living room, where he was met by Dean, Seamus, and Luna. Dean and Seamus looked normal as ever, but Luna was wearing large butterfly wings that sparkled incandescently, softly flapping on their own. Harry raised an eyebrow at Ginny, wondering which of them was going to tell Luna that muggle costumes don’t usually move on their own, but Dean beat them to it.

As Dean explained it patiently to a surprised Luna, Neville and Hannah stepped out of the fireplace. Neville was wearing a flower crown that suited them perfectly, and Hannah had a flag tied as a cape around her neck. It took Harry a moment, but he recognized it as the ace flag.

Last to arrive were Ron and Hermione, looking casual and slightly sheepish. “Thanks for letting us be the token straights!” Ron laughed, stepping out of the fireplace looking unsure of himself. Harry hugged Hermione hen Ron.

“I’m really glad you came,” Harry murmured as they embraced.  “Dean, and Seamus, and Neville...they’re cool and everything, but they’re not you.”

“I’m glad you wanted us here. We’re happy to be here,” Ron said as he stepped back, grinning.

Hermione beamed at him. The last couple years had softened her back to herself, warm and caring. “Your hat, though. Too boring. Here…” She flicked her wand at his beanie, and Harry pulled it off, curious to see what she’d changed.

Instead of the plain black it was before, it was now pink, purple, and blue. Bi colors. He squeezed her shoulder to show his thanks at her thoughtfulness. Now, even his disguise felt like a part of him.

Their group took the tube. Neville was quiet about their fascination with different muggle technology, but Luna took no trouble to lower her voice when she found something interesting. It reminded Harry of the time he’d ridden it with Arthur in the terrible summer before fifth year, and he smiled fondly as he watched Dean explain everything to her. She’d agreed to make the wings stop flapping, but insisted on making them change color instead. Dean had transfigured the edges to look like blinking fairy lights, figuring that muggles had the technology to make the lights change colors but had refused to let her charm the fabric to change as well. The lights on the edge of the silvery wings changed between pink, yellow, and blue, and it was earning her some admiring looks from their fellow passengers. Ron had ridden the underground often enough with Hermione that it wasn’t exciting to him anymore.

When they finally arrived, the streets were already crowded, the energy around them almost vibrating with excitement. They found a place in the street for the group and waited for the parade to start. Harry glanced around as they waited. He spotted two moms rubbing sunscreen on their son as they waited for the parade to start. Luna was not the only person with wings, though Harry personally thought hers were the most beautiful. He saw several people with flags tied as capes, and he was proud of himself that he was knowledgeable enough to identify most of them, thanks to the book Hermione had sent him years ago, which was now dog-eared and worn. There was an older gentleman in a rainbow shirt sitting in his wheelchair, smiling as he soaked in the crowd. Two dads, both with small children on their shoulders, leaned in for a kiss. Harry could picture Teddy on his shoulders next year, he and Ginny with a stroller for their own children in a few years. 

Ginny nudged him, shaking him out of his reverie. “Look,” she muttered, nodding across the street.

Harry felt a shock of surprise as he recognized Draco Malfoy, holding hands with a man Harry didn’t recognize, smiling and looking relaxed. His face wasn’t so pointy when he smiled, and Harry suddenly wondered if his stalking Malfoy sixth year had been only because of an impending war, or if it’d had anything to do with his burgeoning sexuality. Malfoy’s eyes met his, and there was a small nod of acknowledgement between the two of them. 

Suddenly, the noise surged and the parade started, distracting Harry from his musings. He looked at his friends around him and the welcoming crowd. He hadn’t known when he agreed to come that he would feel such a sense of belonging. Not only had he found himself, but he’d found a family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is complete now! Hope you enjoyed it! Comments and kudos are always appreciated.
> 
> If you want to find me on tumblr, it's @kittycargo. I will always respond to messages!

**Author's Note:**

> If you like it, kudos and comments are always appreciated.  
> Find me on tumblr @kittycargo  
> Thanks to a great beta who knows who she is.


End file.
